


Stealing from The Dick

by viviegirl05



Category: The Flash
Genre: M/M, OverProtective!Len, Revenge, jealous!Len
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-07
Updated: 2017-01-07
Packaged: 2018-09-15 14:11:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9238451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/viviegirl05/pseuds/viviegirl05
Summary: Len robs the mayors aide, and he deserves it. Then the douche cops a feel of Barry's ass and Len gets pissed.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Stealing From the Rich](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8160137) by [ImaKaraTabiHe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImaKaraTabiHe/pseuds/ImaKaraTabiHe). 



Len casually strolled into the house. The moron only had a basic security system, which was ridiculously easy to get around. And the lock on the door? Child’s play. It was disgusting. This guy was the freaking mayor’s aide; he should know better than to have such lax security! Guy was a total douche though…

John Black was an egotistical dick. He had monogrammed everything- watches, shirts, cufflinks, bathrobe, _everything_ \- and treated his staff like shit. He had gone through seven housekeepers and eight secretaries in ten months. That alone should be indication enough to his true nature.

Len contemplated the man’s epic levels of dick-itude as he cracked the wall safe. Who even had a wall safe these days? Talk about outdated…but they were pretty good at keeping things safe, so he supposed it was valid to store valuables in a wall safe. With a click, the safe opened.

Was that a gold bar? An honest to god, real life _gold bar?_! Seriously, what the hell? Who the hell had those other than banks and Fort Knox?! He probably had it so he could whip it out and show off how rich he was. This guy deserved to be robbed.

Len swiped the gold bar, shoving it into the bag he brought when he broke in. He absently noted as he was emptying the safe that he was taking gold monogramed cufflinks, platinum and diamond cufflinks and a matching tie clip, a ruby pinky ring (seriously dude? _A pinky ring_?), a platinum Rolex, a gold Rolex with a ruby encrusted bezel, and a stack of cash worth ten thousand dollars according to the paper band.

Who the hell had stacks of cash in their house other than mobsters? Len knew he wasn’t affiliated with any of the families, so he obviously wasn’t a mobster. What the hell?

He left the safe and swiped a few valuables off the desk, and a few important looking documents for the hell of it, and headed out, planning on leaving the front door wide open in his wake. As he left he noticed the bathroom outside the office. Was that _gold toilet paper?!_

That’s it, this guy needed a bigger punishment than just having a few valuables stolen. Len set his bag down by the front door and started going through the house room by room.

He knew he had at least two and a half hours before anyone would be a home, so he took his time making sure to truly destroy that bastards house.

He tore down drapes, shredded sheets, and ripped open pillows. He overturned tables and chairs, smashed china, poured out expensive bottles of scotch and wine, and even smashed picture frames- all the pictures were of the douche anyway.

Returning to the foyer, Len turned around and surveyed his handiwork. The place was trashed, and he still had an hour before anyone would get home.

Grabbing his bag from the floor, Len headed out, leaving all the lights on and the front door open.

Before he left entirely though, he stopped to leave a layer of ice at the entryway, guaranteeing that whoever entered the house would slip and fall on their asses.

With a smug smirk, Len disappeared into the night.


	2. Chapter 2

When Barry arrived at the scene he already knew to avoid the- now melting- ice at the front door. Scooting around the slippery patch, Barry entered the house and immediately took pause.

What the hell, Len? Why did he toss the place? “ _Pompous bastard_ ,” he recalled Len saying of the home’s owner. The guy was the mayor’s aide though. This was just ridiculous.

Making his way to the office, Barry found John Black standing by the desk talking with a detective, describing what had been stolen out of the wall safe.

Black’s eyes immediately went to Barry when he arrived, roving up and down his frame with a predatory look in his eyes. Barry repressed a shudder at how violated the look made him feel.

He made his way around them and set up his equipment to dust the safe for fingerprints, even though he knew there wouldn’t be any. Len never left any forensic evidence.

Was it his imagination, or was John Black talking louder?

“I also had a _platinum_ Rolex in there, and a _gold_ Rolex with _rubies_. They are worth five thousand dollars. _Each_.” Barry looked over his shoulder at the man, who stood there looking smug while simultaneously leering at Barry’s ass.

Barry turned back to his work quickly to hide his disgusted expression. He heard the detective take his leave and Barry devoted all his attention to the safe, looking for any place fingerprints may have been left.

Suddenly there was a hand on his ass. Barry froze.

“Hey sweet stuff. What’s a pretty little thing like you doing working for the police? An ass like this should be making more money.”

The hand started stroking his ass slowly.

“You know,” Black purred, “ _I_ can give you more. I’d give you all kinds of things, and you’d love it wouldn’t you? I bet you'd just love-“

“Ok!” Barry abruptly stood up and turned around. “I’m out of here!”

Barry dumped his gear into his bag without care for organization and stormed out of the room.

“Allen!” Singh called as he passed. “Where the hell are you going?”

“Find another CSI for this case- I’m not going anywhere near that handsy dick again!”

“ _Handsy?!_ ” Singh called.

Barry just stormed out. As pissed as he was at Len for robbing the mayor’s aide, he really couldn’t disagree with the logic behind it. The bastard deserved it.


	3. Chapter 3

Len crept into the house silently, undetected. It was three in the morning and John Black, or as Len now called him, The Dick, was sound asleep.

Len made his way to a chair in the corner of the room, easily within view of the man in the bed. He got himself comfortable, laying his ankle on his knee and cradling the cold gun in his hands menacingly.

He powered up the cold gun with a whirr, loud in the silent room. The Dick woke immediately, instantly zeroing in on the source of the noise.

“Who the hell are you?” He demanded.

“Who I am is irrelevant.” Len rose, prowling over to the bed, stopping about four feet away from the bed. “You touched something of mine. I don’t allow that.”

“What the hell are you on about?”

Len aimed the gun at The Dick’s hands, conveniently placed next to each other as he leaned up on the bed.

“You really should keep your hands to yourself.”

The Dick snorted. “Sure. I’ll keep that in mind. Whatever.”

Len scowled, not impressed by the man’s apathy.

“You _will_ keep it in mind,” he growled.

With that he froze the man’s hands.

The Dick screamed in agony.

“Good luck calling the EMT’s.” Len rested the cold gun back on his shoulder and strolled out, once again leaving the door wide open.

John Black wouldn’t lay a hand on his Barry ever again.


End file.
